


3:24am

by blackheartboi



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: 'my spirit found outlet in the air', 21 pilots new songs are some good shit, Angst, Depression, I just feel shit, I promise I can write better content then this, Jared's POV, Nolan is an oc by @mis.march on instagram, Suicidal Thoughts, after connors death, but its not really talked about, but to quote Amy Johnson, enjoy this trash, except its shitty fanfiction instead of planes, happy 4:20 btw, i really fucking hate tags, im gonna go hibernate now, its 4am ok leave me alone, please check her out she does incredible deh art and an amazing comic, this literally took me 5 minutes, vent fic, yall know its angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 21:12:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackheartboi/pseuds/blackheartboi
Summary: ~1 new message from: Tree boy~The message was from 4 hours ago. He hadn't even noticed.Tree boy: I can't go to TCP meeting tomorrow, sorry.And that was that. He was alone again.





	3:24am

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a vent fic I wrote at 4am.
> 
> TW: This contains a few references to suicidal thoughts & ideations so if you're triggered by that stuff then you probably shouldn't read. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: So I reference Jared's brother at one point, and his character is called Nolan and was created by a great person! Her instagram is @mis.march so you should definitely check it out if you're looking for some good DEH content!
> 
> Enjoy and I promise I'll actually post something decent at some point in the near future.

_3:24am_

_~The insanely cool Jared Kleinman has logged on~_

Bright white illuminated from the pixels on the screen, fingers still above the worn down keyboard of the broken phone resting precariously on his hand. Despite his body being placated atop of the bed, the danger of the fragile device slipping from his fingers onto the floor was of great concern to the teen, and he adjusted his position in accordance to the probably irrational fear. 

Because it's not as though he needed another opportunity to disappoint his family. 

_1 new message from: Tree boy_

The message was from 4 hours ago. He hadn't even noticed. 

_Tree boy: I can't go to TCP meeting tomorrow, sorry._

And that was that. He was alone again.

The brunette eyed the message, unable to mask the dejected feeling cascading through him, as though he'd been dipped into ice; the autumnal hues of his pupils glazing over beneath the layer of glass, reflecting the message over and over. 

Of course this would be the thing to send him over the fucking edge. 

He shouldn't give a shit that Evan wouldn't be attending yet another meeting for the stupid fucking project that he only agreed to participate in because of stupid fucking Evan Hansen. He _shouldn't fucking care_ ; yet glassy crystals cascaded from beneath the large frames, piercing his skin as they tumbled from his cheeks. 

He was just stupid. Why the fuck would Evan Hansen give a shit about his asshole family friend? He's a goddamn _celebrity_ now, don't you know? Celebrities don't need old friends, friends that have always been there for them, even when the 'celebrities' themselves have _no fucking clue_ what the _fuck_ is going on with their old friends because _no one fucking cares_ and-

And that was just it. 

No one cared.

Not his family, who always seemed to find something to be disappointed about, nor his brother that he would always be second best to, no matter what he did. Not Alana Beck, who just saw him as a burden in a project he never wanted to be a part of. And _especially_ not ex-family friend Evan _fucking_ Hansen.

The screen had now faded to black, submerging the small space into darkness. Despite his earlier qualms, Jared allowed the phone to slip from his fingers and loudly collide with the floor.

He couldn't hear a thing.

Just another mistake made by a goddamn mistake. He found himself distantly wondering if this is how Connor had felt. As though he had nothing, and no one; nothing keeping him tethered to whatever reality he was living in.

He'd sure as fuck had a lot of spare time to speculate about the concept of death, seeing as he wasn't spending time with the multitude of friends he lied about having.

_Fucking dark one there Kleinman._

__He didn't believe in heaven and hell, yet, as the thought flittered across his mind like a sinister feather, a tremble of fear rippled through his body, before he slowly became complacent._ _

__He could die, and no-one would notice._ _

___Not that they'd care if they did._ _ _

__But he couldn't, not today. Today he was too tired. He would be tomorrow, too. Until one day, when it would all become too fucking much._ _

__But for now, he'd shove it away again. Adopt the personality of the person he wished he could be. Pretend he didn't give a shit. Be the butt of every fucking joke._ _

__Even his birthday is the 1st of April. How appropriate._ _

__He was just a joke, and that was all he'd ever be._ _

__There wasn't even any point in trying to change, he'd never be a better person._ _

__And that was that._ _

__-_ _

__Another crack had appeared in his phone, though the teen wouldn't realise until the morning, remnants of tears absorbed by a pillow as his eyes finally fluttered closed._ _

___~The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman has logged off~_ _ _


End file.
